


Party

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Character Study, Chloe has not exactly become a better person, F/F, Pining Brooke, Post-Squip, Underage Drinking, mentions of Chloe attempting to "date" college frat boys, post squip, see the bad decisions tag, these girls are making bad decisions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-24 20:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20913359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Chloe helps Brooke do her make-up for a party.





	Party

“Open your eyes and look at the ceiling,” Chloe orders. Her hands are cool and soft, her manicured nails hard and sharp and gentle in the places where they brush up against Brooke’s face. “When I touch the mascara wand to your lashes, you’ve gotta blink, okay?” 

Somehow, Brooke finds it in herself to murmur her agreement, to keep entirely still in her spot at the edge of her bed, with Chloe and her make-up kit in front of her. She wants so badly to shift her legs or her hips, because she can feel Chloe’s touch all the way to her toes, and that's a sensation that needs to be dispelled, or else crystallized somehow. 

“You’ve got nice eyes,” Chloe says. “You know that?” 

“Mmmm.” 

Brooke squints when the make-up brush comes close. 

“Brooke! Not like that. You’ll smudge it.” 

“Sorry.” 

Chloe scoffs. “Not my problem. Let's go over the plan for tonight…” 

As Chloe continues to put the finishing touches on Brooke’s make-up, she reiterates how they’re going to crash the Rutgers University Spring Fling, using these frat guys she found on Tinder, and how all they need to do if they want to get shit faced and have _real_ fun is find somebody who isn't drinking, and buy booze tickets off them. 

“That's how it works in college,” Chloe explains, her tone authoritative. “You show your ID at the door, and they give you a ream of tickets, like the ones you win at the arcade.” 

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Brooke asks. The booze she's used to. The whole college frat boys thing is kinda suspect. 

“Shh. I'm working.” Chloe lifts up Brooke’s chin to apply lipstick, and there's just something about _that_ which steals Brooke’s breath, her words, and every one of her protestations. “This’ll be fun,” Chloe practically coos. “I promise.” She finishes, and blots Brooke’s lips with a piece of tissue. It's almost like a kiss. It's like Chloe’s finger is _right there_ on Brooke’s mouth, so close that Brooke could lick it, only she won't, because she's not a freak. Brooke is totally going to this party, whether she wants to or not. And maybe she wants. Maybe not the party and the boys, but something anyway. 

The end result of Chloe’s mini makeover is similar to the ones she’s given Brooke in the past, which is to say, not very good. Chloe’s a masterful makeup artist on herself, but whenever she works on other people, something goes wrong. This time, Brooke’s contour is on point, and her lips are kissably pink. It's the eyeliner that's gone kinda wonky. Sometimes she thinks that Chloe does it on purpose, like there's only enough room at this party for one girl with perfect eyeliner, and Chloe is determined to be that girl. It's mean to think like that, though, because Chloe is Brooke’s best friend, and she'd never deliberately hurt her. It's just that since the Squips, Brooke is much more aware of Chloe’s insecurities, and in some ways it makes Brooke love her more than ever, while in other ways it makes her all that more conscious of the cracks Chloe’s obsession with status forges in their friendship. 

“Selfie!” Chloe chirps, apparently unaware of the gears turning in Brooke’s mind. Brooke leans into Chloe, smiling, feeling all the while like a puppet whose strings are being tangled. 

“You sure you don't just want to just stay in?” Brooke asks. “We could hang. Just the two of us.” If Chloe would say yes, then everything would be okay. 

“I did not get dressed like this to sit on my ass and watch Netflix.” 

“Fair,” Brooke says. 

(It isn’t)

Chloe grabs her bag, her phone and her flask. Brooke gathers up her own things. There’s something off about it all. The <strike>well-spring of gay attraction</strike> butterflies in the pit of Brooke’s stomach have stopped feeling good, and started feeling more the way Brooke does when she ignores her lactose intolerance in favor of adventures at Pinkberry. It’s all metaphorically interconnected, sorta. Chloe’s sweet and Brooke wants her, just like frozen yoghurt. Chloe comes with consequences, just like frozen yoghurt. At least Chloe doesn't give Brooke gas, ‘cause that’d be gross. 

“Brooke!” Chloe claps her hands, signaling for Brooke to follow. One of these days, Brooke is going to talk to her about that. Tonight, they've got a party to go to.


End file.
